One Shots
by CDtheMoleKing
Summary: Some one shots, some with a twist (rating M just in case)
1. Cry Baby (AU 2Doc)

StuDoc - Warning this chapter cotains abuse and rape! Have a pairing you want me to do just let me know! 3

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He was crying again. He was such an emotional boy, easily frightened by nearly everything due to past trauma. He wished he wasn't so weak. He prayed that one day he'd be more like his leader, he was such a hardass and nothing phased him in the slightest; or at least the boy was sure nothing did. The cause for his racked emotional state was the horrible storm that had blown in. The howling wind and loud cracks of thunder had his anxiety through the roof, and all he could do was sit curled up in a ball, rock back and forth, and cry with his hands over his ears. He didn't want to leave his room, too afraid that he'd be swept away by the raging wind, but he wished desperately that one of his other band mates would come to comfort him. He scolded himself for being a wimp. He was 28 for godsake! The self scolding did little to help, if anything it made him feel worse. Voices starting to whisper horrid and mean things to him.

"Shut up!" He cried as he shook his head furiously, hoping to shake the voices out of his ears.

"What're you yelling about now you dammed sod?"

The boy, huddled in the corner of his bed, froze... The voice of his band leader cut through him like a knife and filled him with more dread. He was the last person he wanted to see right now.

"N-Nothin," He answered timidly, avoiding looking at the older man, "It's nothin, I just..." His voice trailed off, body trembling visibly to the new presence in the room which brought forth a dark chuckle which seemed to reverberate off the walls.

The figure, shadowed by the darkness of the room and only seen through the flashes of lightning that came through the blinds like some nightmare. He approached the bed and knelt down on it. "Are you crying again? You fucking pansy..." When the younger of the two didnt respond he roughly grabbed him by the collar of his PJ shirt, breaking a couple of the buttons off, and slammed his head against the wall. "ANSWER ME!"

"Y-Yes! yes," The boy sobbed and shook in his leader's hold as more full tears slid down his face. "P-Please let me go, I'm sorry. Whatever I did I'm sorry!"

Another low, evil chuckle filled the room, hot breath ghosting his face before he felt the wetness and heat of a tongue lick his cheek; tasting his tears. Before he had time to react he was slammed up against the wall again, his clothes being ripped from him as his attacker bit and sucked at his tender skin.

"N-No, no! Please, dont do this again! Please!" But his begging was useless, only infuriating the man further and earning him a blow to the head. He laid there, head aching and vision fading, and as he felt the soft fleece of PJ bottoms slide off of him he welcomed the black out. His unconscious body took the abuse dealt out on it, pleasing the attacker but also annoying him; he drank in the boys anxiety like the finest wine and with him out he couldn't get his dose of that sweet fear.

He made sure he covered his prey in bites and bruises, filling any available hole with his sprog before leaving. He stopped at the doorway and looked back at the sprawled out naked body of his beautiful bass player, "G'night Mudz..." He mumbled before leaving the room and going back to his own, running into Noodle on the way.

"Did you check on him like I told you too?" She asked, hands on her hips as she glared up at the pale singer.

"Yeah, he's fine. Sleeping like a baby," He glared down at her before shoving past her. "Now fuck off..."

Noodle shook her head with a sigh and headed to the kitchen for a relaxing cup of tea. "Night Stu..."


	2. Hot And Cold (RusDoc)

RusDoc - This one's more on the fluffy side :) Also I would like to apologize if most of these are Mudz one shots / I just think he's hawt/cute lol

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It was a gloomy day over Kong. The sky shrouded with grey clouds that drizzled cold rain over the landfill. Zombies groaned as they wandered the property in search for their next meal. Gun shots echoed throughout the otherwise quiet scape as Murdoc hunted the undead from up in the car lot, his aim had drastically improved since the first time they moved into the large haunted studio. He smirked proudly as another zombie dropped, mentally clapping himself on the back in congratulations.

"What're you doin now, you crazy cracka' ass?" Russel's voice broke the silence, his tone playful and footsteps heavy on the pavement as he made his way over to the satanist.

"huntin' zombies, what's it look like lards...?" Murdoc shot back quickly, his tone fiery yet Russel could hear the smirk behind the rhetorical question, "You need somethin'? I'm a bit busy here."

Russel came to stand beside Murdoc, setting down a mug of hot tea on the edge. "you're gonna catch your death out here, man. At least put a shirt on." The drummer couldn't help but be amused at how stubborn the bassist was, but it gave him the chance to check him out. Driving his eyes along the wicked curved of Murdoc's back, mentally playing with that soft, light patch of chest hair between his fingers, and of course the currently perked nipples that called for attention.

"I'm fine Russ, bugga' off would ya...?" The satanist more demanded than asked, but the black man could see the lil smile on the shorter man's face. Russel stood there, arms crossed and not budging for a few minutes before Murdoc finally caved with a dramatic groan. "Fine! I'll drink yer dammed tea."

He finally turns, setting the rifle aside as he picks up the mug of tea and takes a sip. His cheeks, lil pointy ears, and nose were red from the cold which Russ found unbelievably cute. Murdoc turns his back on the drummer with a huff after noticing how much he was staring at him.

"So wot's brainache and Noodle gu'l up to?" He didn't want his drummer seeing him blush, those milky white eyes always made him shiver and feel a little hot.

"They're playin games in Noodle's room," Russ replied softly and moved closer to Murdoc, resting his large hands on those tanned shoulders and gently kneading them, earning a soft grunt from the older Brit. "Ya got another knot back here, you know."

"Mm... Well get it then, idiot," Mudz replied softly, his voice a bit husky and his body relaxed as he let himself feel those hands work his shoulders.

Russel couldn't help but smirk as he started rubbing his thumbs in circles between his bassist's shoulder blades. _He's such a demanding little drama queen_. Just after a couple of minutes he had the satanist leaned back against him, head resting back on the black man's chest and eyes closed. One of the large hands caresses around the Brit's neck, feeling up his throat to the underside of his jaw before gently grabbing it and tilting Murdoc's head back further. The bassist opened his eyes a bit and stared up at his lover, feeling very warm now that he was so close to the larger male.

"Well... Get on with it," Mudz sneered a bit as his cheeks reddened further, this time not from the cold. The drummer chuckles softly then presses a kiss to first the crooked nose then captures his slightly chapped lips in a deep kiss. Murdoc's eyes flutter close as he kissed back, bringing a hand up and placing it on the back of Russ' smooth head. It had taken the demon bassist ages to get used to the possessed drummer's romantic tendencies, but he didn't mind it now. It always made him feel like he was special... Like he could melt into a gooey puddle and still be loved just as much. Likewise it had taken Russel a bit of time to keep up with Murdoc in the bedroom, the smaller male was lewd and vocal, and downright sexy when he was riled up.

Russel breaks the kiss and runs his tongue over Mudz's bottom lip teasingly, earning a slight whimper. "Ready to come inside now?"

"Shut up..." Murdoc growled as he spun around and hottily walked off towards Russel's room. The drummer smirked and followed him, ready to spark a flame they could both get warm to.


	3. Training Wheels (AcePot)

AcePot - for those who don't know Ace is actually younger than 2D as stated in the Wiki he's early to mid 30s while 2D is in his 40s :)

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"I-I don't know about this Ace..." Stuart nervously whimpered out as he clung to the small wall that surrounded the roller blade rink. He and Ace were there alone to practice for their Humility music video and poor 2D had no idea how to skate.

"oh come on Stu, it's easy!" The younger green man said as he casually skated in a circle, "Plus I'm here to help you out ain't I?"

2D was still trying put his trust in Ace, after all he resembled Murdoc in a couple of physical ways and was even friends with the bassist when they were children. How could he be so sure that Ace wouldn't be exactly like his ex-mate? His feet slip a little, causing him to let out a surprise yelp as his knees buckle and he clings to the wall for dear life.

Ace glides over to the lanky brit and gently places his hand on his shoulder with a soft smile, "Hey... It's gonna be alright. Come on, take my hand."

2D looks up at the ex-gang leader and then down at the hand extended to him. He chews on the inside of his cheek as he hesitantly clasps Ace's hand, trembling as he tries to keep his balance when he lets go of the wall. Ace takes a step back and begins to slowly skate backwards, gently pulling the bluenette with him and holding both of his hands.

"A-Ace," 2D whimpered out as he bit his lip, legs still shaking and bent.

"You're doing great Stu! Straighten your legs otherwise you'll trip over your feet."

Ace couldn't help but find the older brit adorable in every way, even how nervous he was or how forgetful he could be. 2D stands up more straight and lets out a short little laugh, smiling down at the man assisting him. _Maybe he really IS different,_ 2D thought with a light blush as his grip on Ace's hands tightened. They skate some slow circles around the rink before Ace gets Stu to starting taking steps to speed them up.

"There you go! You're doin just fine!" Ace cheered with a sweet smirk, trying to encourage his new friend to stay brave.

Unfortunately their practice came to an abrupt halt when one of the shoelaces on 2D's skates got caught in the wheel, sending the singer colliding into Ace and the two fall back on the rink with a hard thud. 2D groans softly and shifts a little, quickly sitting up when he realized he was sprawled out on top of the younger bloke.

"Oh my gosh! A-Ace, are you okay? I'm so sorry!"

Ace let out a groan, "Yeah I'm okay Stu. Are you alright?"

He reached up and lightly brushed his fingers across 2D's face, tucking a lock of soft blue hair behind the singer's ear. 2D blushed again and shyly nods with a little smile as he stares down at the ravenette. Ace's sunglasses had got knocked off in the fall, giving 2D the chance to see the pretty pink eyes that had been hidden behind them. They were filled with so much warmth and life as they stared up at 2D with an admiring gaze. The singer couldn't help but lean in closer, and closer, eyes slowly closing as their lips brush together. Ace, also caught up in the romantic vibe, wastes no time in kissing the englishman back; softly at first but it soon deepens to something a bit more passionate. After a minute 2D breaks it off, pulling back slowly and giving Ace a sheepish smile.

"I-I fink I'm ready to practice more heh..."


	4. Sing Blackbird Pt 1 (2Doc)

Today is like any other day in this shithole town, cold wind and pissin rain onto the miserable inhabitants down below. My name's Murdoc and am currently one of the unlucky sods getting pissed on by the sky as I wait for the school bus. I'm 17 and live in Stoke on Trent, the Devil's armpit of Britain, with my abusive father and asshole older brother. You learn to deal with it all over time, as shitty as it may be, and I was just beginning to go numb to it all until last year when my school hired a new teacher for the choir department. Since then everything has been flipped over and fucked 6 ways to Sunday.

This new teacher was a tall streak of shit, lankier than a pole with pale skin, azure hair, and matching blue eyes. He was the prettiest thing I had laid eyes on and just thinking that left a bitter taste in my mouth. I'm straight! Why in the Hell am I thinking about a bloke like that? I had been so confused and disgusted with myself that I gladly welcomed father's beating that night, hoping the pain might knock some sense into me; instead all it did was knock out a couple of my teeth. Every day I told myself I wasn't gay and I had almost started to believe it until one day when I heard the bastard singing. It was like an angel's voice, sweet and inviting... I could've stood there forever and listened to him, but the bell's shrill cry snapped me back to reality so quick I probably got whiplash.

I was glad when the school year finally ended and I didn't have to see, or hear, him anymore, but just my luck I found out I was in HIS class this year. I tried to hard to drop the class, but the school wasn't having it. They hated my guts anyways, figures they wouldn't try to help a fella out... This was like some sort of bad cosmic joke, or something. Choir... How the Hell did the school board see it fit to put ME in a singing class? I couldn't sing and whatever noise that did come out of my throat was more equated to a cat getting stepped on. I was officially living a new version of Hell I didn't think possible...

"Good mornin' class!" The choir teacher greeted as he entered the classroom, his voice lilted and a pearly smile on his face, "My name is Mr. Tusspot and I'll be yewr choir teacha'!"

I watched him awkwardly move in front of the class. Not surprised with those legs... I ended up getting stuck in the front row, so I was trying my hardest to blend in with the rest of the brats and not make myself known. He took roll call, each of us answering as our name's were called, his accent was kind of odd; he definitely wasn't from Stoke. As he called my name some of the other students snickered or whispered to each other. I rolled my eyes and shifted as I sunk down a bit into my seat. My name wasn't particularly popular among baby names, so I often got made fun of a lot for it. He called my name again, earning another round of giggles from the class, before his eyes landed on me. He walked over to me and stood there with a big goofy smile, head cocked slightly as he stared at me.

"Judgin' by yewr postu'e I take it yew must be Mr. Niccals!" He stated in a sort of sing-song voice.

I gritted my teeth and glanced up at him past my fringe. Sure enough the dullard was still looking down at me. God he's so fucking tall! It really pissed me off how tall he was... I felt my face starting to heat up, so I quickly angled my head down to hide before replying with, "Who wants to know?"

I sat there, staring at his feet, but I couldn't stop the embarrassed surprise that spread across my face when his face floated into view. The fuckin' bean pole was bent over trying to look at me, still sporting his smile. I gripped the edge of my seat, feeling a small chill creep up my spine. Stop staring, stop staring! As if hearing my thoughts he finally straightened back up and walked away back to his desk to get class started.

"Now," He began, "before we sta't on any sort of vocal practices, or songs, the fu'st fing we have to do is figu'e out wot vocal ranges yew all have!" And thus the nightmare began...

He began by having all of us stand up away from our chairs so he could separate us into sections: Soprano, Tenor, Bass, etc. Next he demonstrated what he expected us to do for this practice, which was to sing something called a solfège (Do Re Mi Fa So La Ti Do), if I had to guess what his singing range is I'd say A1 to G 5. Not that I'm impressed! I caught myself enjoying the sound of his vocalization, it was more melodic than that dopey speaking voice he had. After his demonstration, one by one, he went down the line and had each student sing the simple melody; a lot of the girls were obvious Sopranos while the more pubescent boys were either Countertenors, or Contraltos. I could feel myself clamming up as he got closer and closer to me, each student sent to their assigned seat so there was less of us standing. When he finally reached me I locked my jaw and glared up at him.

"Oh, come now Mu'doc," He said with a pout, "Don't you want to sing for me?"

I heard students snicker and whisper, making my glare darken further as I clenched my fists and scowled up at him. He sighed, "We'll come back to you then." He moved onto the next student, and the next one, until all of them but me was sitting... Now here I stood in front of the class, feeling my cheeks turn red and my heart hammer away in my chest as Stuart continued to try to coax me to sing for him. The more he tried to encourage me, the more I felt eyes bore into my back... Expecting eyes, judging eyes... I could feel myself starting to shrink as I stared at the floor, hunching my shoulders as my vision started to get fuzzy. _Oh no..._ _  
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End file.
